


Defeated

by kanonkita



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, it ain't pretty, megs gonna beat a mofo, overlord is a butthole, probably with another mofo, random nothings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-03 01:53:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12738636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanonkita/pseuds/kanonkita
Summary: Overlord finds a more creative way to beat Megatron once and for all.





	Defeated

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to experiment writing something from the POV of a total a**wipe. Probably could've done more with it, but whatevs.

They were doing it again.

The first time Overlord saw it, he’d convinced himself that it was just his imagination, a little too much of Swindle’s cheap high grade, but this time…

He narrowed his optics as he watched Megatron’s servo hover over Starscream’s spinal strut and then pull away, as though the warlord had been thinking about resting it there, but thought better of it. The seeker shifted slightly and continued surveying the monitors, apparently unaware of what had just happened. A moment or two passed, and Starscream shifted once more so that his wing brushed against Megatron’s chassis.

They were always these little things—a quick brush of servos, a flick of the wings, a casual repositioning that brought frames closer than necessary—things that someone might not notice if they weren’t watching closely. There had been more and more of them lately. Overlord started going out of his way to be around when the two of them might think they were alone, hoping to catch something more incriminating.

The two highest-ranking Decepticons were naturally quite skilled at sneaking around, though. It took almost two months before Overlord managed to catch them on a security feed in a sufficiently compromising position. Actually, it was a rather impressive position that he reflected was only possible because of the incredible height difference and both parties’ great athletic abilities. He saved a copy of the feed to his personal files.

It was good to know that his suspicions had been correct, of course, but he still needed to know what the extent of the situation was.

He got the opportunity a few days later when he found himself out in the field with Starscream. There was an Autobot gun aimed at Starscream’s back, and the idiot was too busy yelling at one of his trine mates to notice. Overlord could have shot the Autobot himself, but… 

Starscream spent a couple of cycles in the medbay, his wings and turbine badly damaged, and Overlord watched Megatron carefully during this time. Was their leader a little more irritable than usual? Was it just him, or did Megatron seem to be a bit distracted? This would require further experimentation.

It wasn’t difficult to stoke the malcontent that the other troops felt for the Air Commander, nor to find someone with enough of a grudge against Starscream that the grunt would think it was  _ his _ idea to attack the still-injured seeker. Then, Overlord just had to sit back and watch in amazement as Megatron crushed the life out of the little peon for daring to touch his second-in-command.

But Overlord was fairly certain that it was more than that. All the confirmation he needed was the conversation he managed to overhear between them in what they had apparently thought was a deserted hallway.

“I don’t need you to protect me from my own underlings!” Starscream was hissing, leaning up on tiptoes so that he could jab a sharp digit into Megatron’s face.

“I never thought that you did. I simply wanted to do it,” Megatron replied calmly, catching the seeker’s servo in his. “And you should still be resting; your right wing is barely reattached.”

“Like you haven’t given me worse in the past,” his SIC snorted, tugging at his captive servo.

“Starscream.” And this time, there was almost a note of hurt in Megatron’s voice. “Please don’t bring that up.”

“Of course, of course; you’re different now.”

“Am I not?”

Starscream paused a long while before his shoulders slumped, the irritation seeming to melt out of him.

“You are,” he finally conceded.

One of Megatron’s servos came up and cupped the seeker’s cheek. Overlord watched in amazement as he nuzzled Starscream’s forehead with his nose before catching those pouty lips in a firm but affectionate kiss.

This was everything Overlord could ever have hoped for—Megatron had allowed himself a weakness. A weakness that could be so easily exploited. Over the next few days, he put endless hours of thought into how he could take advantage of it.

Holding Starscream hostage? But however much Megatron cared about him, he was the sort who would allow his lover to be sacrificed for the sake of the cause and his own position in it. Killing Starscream? No, too quickly finished.

And then one day, as he watched Starscream’s pretty white wings and cherry red aft sway their way out of the command center, he realized exactly what he should do, and it was going to be so much fun.

It wasn’t even hard. All he had to do was get the access code to the Seeker’s quarters. The little flier barely even had time to cry out in surprise before Overlord had hit him round the helm hard enough to knock his communications systems offline. Starscream fought him, but that was half the fun of it. He enjoyed listening as the Seeker’s cries shifted from rage and indignation to pain, fear, and—as he wrenched his interfacing panel out of the way—desperation.

Starscream begged, he offered, he cried, and Overlord ignored it all, pushing thick digits into soft meshy folds, exploring the space curiously. Overlord considered shoving his whole fist in there, but no; he had decided not to kill the miserable thing, after all.

In all honesty, Overlord could understand now why Megatron put up with the whiny fool. His valve was deliciously tight, even after who knew how many rounds with the ex-gladiator, and the thought that Megatron had been in this valve was even better than listening to Starscream’s choked sobs as the larger mech forced his way into him over and over again. This was Megatron’s place, Megatron’s property, and Overlord was going to leave his mark on it so that the old fool would never be able to use it again without remembering who had taken it from him.

He went three full rounds in the Seeker, who passed out halfway through, and then was finally satisfied. For good measure, he turned his victim’s lightweight frame over, grabbed a wing in one servo and planted his foot on his back before ripping the appendage off its connecting cables and gears. He did the same on the other side.

And now, he needed to get going.

“See ya round, Stars!” he said cheerily, tucking a wing under each arm and striding out of the room.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“What happened!?”

Hook jerked, almost dropping his tools as Megatron’s furious roar cut through his medbay. He turned quickly to see the warlord storming through the doors, one of his most murderous lights in his optics. The constructicon mouthed silently at him for several seconds as the myriad of possible meanings behind the question surged through his processor; picking the wrong one could mean certain death.

Megatron apparently wasn’t willing to wait, though, and strode right over to the medic, seizing the front of his chassis and pulling him up to optic-level.

“Where is Starscream?” he ground out through gritted denta, their faceplates barely inches apart.

“I...in the annex,” Hook squeaked, relieved that he was not the subject of his leader’s ire, at least.

Megatron released him without another word and headed for the annex in what Hook would have called a frantic manner if he’d been an idiot. The constructicon picked himself up off the floor and hurriedly gathered some things that he could work on outside of the medbay. If he didn’t get hit by a stray blaster shot now, then Starscream was sure to come after him later for listening in on this conversation.

 

* * *

 

Megatron paused in the annex doorway, his intakes hitching slightly at the sight in front of him. His seeker—his beautiful seeker—was lying on his side, covered in dents and scrapes, his wings gone, large portions of his armor crushed. He didn’t stir at the sound of the door opening, though some small twitching in his damaged faceplates suggested that he was still online.

White hot anger surged through Megatron. He had promised—he had promised Starscream that he would never hurt him again, and now someone else…

Something new caught the warlord’s eye. Hoist had clearly considered himself too busy to do anything more than stop the worst of Starscream’s energon leaks for the time being, and the seeker still had dried energon caked on in several places—including his inner thighs.

Starscream gasped in pain and terror, his optics shooting back online, as Megatron seized his knees and forced them apart. He tried to shriek something at the warlord and just spat out static, followed by a coughing fit. His throat cables were also badly damaged, Megatron noted.

At the moment though, his chief concern was the seeker’s valve. Someone had forced the cover back with enough carelessness that it was now too damaged to close. The delicate mesh was torn in multiple places, and the whole thing was a mess of both fresh and dried energon, mixed with pearlescent transfluid that hadn’t quite finished leaking out of him yet.

Megatron would have stared longer if several more bursts of static hadn’t drawn his attention.

Starscream was glaring at him, his entire frame shaking with pain, embarrassment, rage, and Megatron wasn’t sure what else. A few tears were leaking from his one undamaged optic. Megatron carefully closed his legs once more. He would make sure that Hook gave his second a much more thorough repair job in just a moment, but first…

“Who did this?” the warlord growled.

Starscream made no answer, simply settled himself gingerly back onto the berth and turned to glare at the wall.

Megatron reached up to lay a hand on his hip and stopped when he saw the marks there—dents in the shape of large fingers. Images flashed through his processor of various members of his crew holding the seeker down and rutting into him as he shrieked in pain, squeezing his throat until his vocalizer broke, sighing with a pleasure that was supposed to be only Megatron’s.

And more than that, he thought of Starscream, hurt and humiliated, perhaps calling for him. He thought of him lying broken and leaking on the floor of his quarters, waiting for someone to find him—waiting for Megatron to find him. He’d let him down. He hadn’t been able to help him. He hadn’t even known. He could have died there, alone and frightened, and Megatron wouldn’t have known until Soundwave reported the locating his deactivated frame.

He had failed.

It wasn’t difficult to narrow down his list of suspects; there were few on the ship aside from himself who were capable of putting his Air Commander in such a state, and even fewer who would lower themselves to this level of depravity.

Now, as he gathered his Seeker carefully into his arms, stroking damaged plating and wiping tears from his face, he was forced to admit it: Overlord had finally defeated him.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I'm off to write something fluffy now....


End file.
